Hetalia: Battle of the Bands!
by ImaginaryParchment
Summary: The Nordic 5 challenge the Axis Powers plus England, America, France, and Canada to a battle of the bands. What could go wrong? A lot, unsurprisingly. Also, watch out for PLOT TWISTS! (This fic does not contain any pairings. :))
1. War is Declared - Starring Most Nations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Ve~! **

**Warning: Very, very slight language in this chapter. It's very small, I promise.**

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PART ONE – WAR IS DECLARED: ALL NATIONS

This week's World Conference was going slowly. The summer heat lulled the nations into a daze-like state – even Italy was talking less than normal.

"To start, I propose we get a giant superhero to punch all the diseases, and then not as many people will die!" America concluded. "Done! Can we go home now?"

Germany groaned, taking off his glasses. "Not quite. Ve still need to go over vhat ve are going to do for ze summer festival on ze 20th. So make up your minds already!" He glared at the other nations. "And zen ve can leave."

"Oh! Oh! Germany!" Italy waved his hand in the air with a sudden burst of energy, looking extremely excited. "I have an idea! Germany!"

"Yes, yes, go on."

"Yay!" Italy took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Immediately, everyone else looked to him, shocked by this action. The Italian tilted his head, eyes closed again. "Why are you guys looking at me funny?"

Japan shook his head. "Ah, sorry, Itary. Prease continue with your idea."

"Okay, then… I propose we have a Battle of the Bands!" Italy looked immensely proud of himself.

"YEAH, DUDE! WICKED AWESOME IDEA!" America cheered. And then fell asleep, exhausted from the heat.

("Eh?" Canada poked his brother. "America!" He poked him again.)

"I agree with Mr. America," Japan said solemnly. "I rike your idea, Itary."

"Honhonhon, music is an art zat we French admire," France said, tossing his hair slow motion style. "I say we go with ze idea."

England sighed irritably. "I hate to agree with the Frog, but a Battle of the Bands does sound pretty interesting. Just one question though: Which bands?"

Austria looked excited. "Oh, I know! How about Austrian orchestras or symphonies? We can play Mozart or Chopin!"

"I am not thinking we are talking about that type of music," Finland told Austria apologetically. "Sorry, Meester Austria."

Austria looked put out, sinking in his chair.

("Whuzza goin' on?" America murmured. Canada fanned him hastily. "You kind of passed out…")

"Hey, I have good idea!" Denmark announced, a gleam in his eyes. "We – as in Finny, Icey, Norge, Sve, and I – can form a band! Yeah?"

Iceland looked slightly interested. "To compete in the Battle of the Bands?"

"Why would we do that?" Sweden asked.

"Come on, Sve, it'll be fun!" Finland promised.

"Hm." Sweden did not look persuaded.

As they argued, Norway walked over to Denmark. He stood there a moment before Denmark noticed him. "Hey, Norway, what're – hgmphm!" he garbled as the Norwegian pulled on his tie.

Germany stared at the Nordics. "Zey are an odd group," he thought, slightly disturbed.

"Germany? Germany, can we form a band, too?" Italy looked quite hopeful.

"Fine," Germany muttered, unable to resist his friend's will. "Who else?"

"Japan! Want to join our band?" Italy chirped.

Japan was talking to England. He gave a small, slightly suspicious, smile. "Only if Mr. Engrand agrees to as werr," Japan conceded.

"England! You want to join, too?" Italy asked, tugging on the blonde's arm.

England swatted the nation away. "Fine, fine! Just let go of my bloody arm!" Suddenly, he got an idea. "But only if you get America to join."

Italy skipped over to the other side of the table. "America, want to join our band?"

Canada frowned. "I'm Canada…"

"Sorry! You're sure? You two look exactly the same!" Italy looked upset.

"It's fine," Canada added hastily. "I'll join your band, and America can, too." (America was still a bit out of it at this point.) "Hey, is France going to be in it, too?"

France appeared behind Canada with a big smile. "Oui!"

Italy tilted his head. "I didn't invite you, but that's ok, Big Brother France!"

At the other side of the room, a certain fabulous blond was struck with an idea. "Hey, Liet, we should totally, like, form a band!" Poland told Lithuania.

"Huh? Why?" Lithuania seemed nervous...as usual.

Poland rolled his eyes. "Because it'll be, like, fabulous. Duh."

His friend still looked unsure. "I don't know… Who else would be in the band?"

"We could totally ask Estonia and Latvia! You guys are supposed to be, like, fab singers, right?"

Lithuania scratched his head. "I suppose I could ask." He turned to his left. "Hey, Latvia, Estonia, do you guys want to join Poland's band?"

The other two Baltics suddenly looked incredibly frightened. "Um, Lithuania, you do know that Russia is thinking about competing, too, right?" Latvia squeaked out. "I heard him talking to Mr. America about getting the Allies to form a band…"

The brunette Baltic turned back to Poland, who was waiting impatiently for an answer.

"So?" prompted Poland.

Lithuania had a nervous smile. "Eheheh… Sorry, Pol, no can do! Scary Mr. Russia might be in the competition, too, and I can't go against him."

Poland was disappointed. "You're, like, no fun," he announced with an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, like, why is it so hot? I feel absolutely exhausted."

"THE NORDIC 5 CHALLENGES THE WHOEVER-YOU-GUYS-ARE TO THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS!" cried Denmark out of the blue, pointing his glass of beer in America's direction, knowing the young nation would likely take the bait.

America, awake with a sudden burst of energy, shouted, "YOU'RE ON!"

And the two promptly became exhausted from the heat and passed out in unison.

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**So, my first Hetalia fanfiction! Yay! :)**

**The Nordic 5 are so much better than 1D. Just saying. ;D**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


	2. The Preparation - Starring (?)

**Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia. Never have, never will. =.=**

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PART TWO – THE PREPARATION: ?

The six of seven nations sat in America's garage, waiting for the loud country to come back out. France and England had split a couch with Canada (and then promptly forgotten his presence), while Germany and Italy shared another one. Japan sat on separate plastic chair he had randomly found lying around.

America's garage was very patriotic. The walls were blue, and the little furniture – such as couches and an old table – were all in white. Pretty much everything else was red, except for the odd white or blue. America's garage was also very messy. Germany and Japan could barely restrain themselves from straightening, dusting, and mending every single object in the garage.

"Mein Gott," Germany said grumpily. "I cannot believe I am actually doing zis." He poked the keyboard to his right, wincing at the loud tone.

England, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy. "You know, we had The Beatles, one of greatest rock bands of all time," he boasted.

France flipped his immaculate hair. "But can you actually play?"

"Of course!" England snapped. And with that, he played a few complicated chords. "Ha! Take that, Frog!"

France just made an I-really-don't-care face. "C'est bon, but my singing is far superior! _My_ country has Celine Dion!"

"She's part Canadian," Canada put in weakly. "And besides, now we have Justin Bieber!"

"Who are you?" Germany asked him suspiciously.

The blond sighed. "I'm Canada."

"Huh…" Germany looked at Canada, confusion evident. "I thought Justin Beaver was American…"

"Justin _Bieber_," Canada corrected. "And no, he's Canadian."

"Vell, vhy are you so proud to have Justin Beaver? He's terrible at singing!" Germany stopped. "No offense to your nation."

He merely shrugged it off. "At least people know who he is," Canada told Germany. "Even if it's not for great reasons, it's still a decent excuse to be proud of a nearly-internationally famous pop star."

"True," Germany conceded. He looked around. "Vhere's America?"

"RIGHT HERE!" America shouted as he entered the band's "practice room", otherwise known as his garage. "And since I'm the hero, I get to be the lead singer!"

"Quoi?!" France leapt up from where he was sitting on an old couch. "I wanted to sing!"

"You can be my back-up singer! Every good hero needs a sidekick, after all!"

"But…" France realized it would be fruitless to argue. "Fine," he muttered, causing England to cackle.

America continued, oblivious. "Since I'm singing, England obviously has to play guitar since he can't do anything else–"

"I PLAY GUITAR QUITE WELL, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

"–France is my backup singer, I guess Germany is playing the bass 'cuz he seems like that type of guy–"

"Fine," Germany grunted. "I really do not vant to do this, though."

"–Japan's playing the drums, and Italy can… Italy, what can you do?" America asked (somewhat rudely, earning a glare from Germany).

"I can play the tambourine!" Italy announced happily, holding up his plastic instrument painted in the colors of the Italian flag. He shook it, displaying his musical prowess. "Ve~!"

America blinked, then grinned. "Alright!" Pause. "Wait a second, aren't there seven of us?"

"Did you count me?" Canada implored, hoping against hope that someone would actually hear him.

His brother merely squinted and counted off the others on his fingers. "Germany, Italy, Japan, England, France, Canada – wait, dude, when did you show up?"

"I've been here the _entire time_!" Canada shouted in his quiet voice. (Which sounds odd, but you know what I mean.) "You always just conveniently forget about me!"

America suddenly had a chainsaw in his hand, roaring and whirring. "WHAT'S THAT?" he yelled. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

The other North American nation felt faint. "You know what, it's fine…"

The chainsaw disappeared. "Anyways, what song are we gonna play?" America thought for a moment. "What if we sang _Let It Go_?"

England rolled his eyes. "First off, _Frozen_ takes place in Norway, who happens to be on the opposite team."

"Oh, yeah."

"And second off, the song's annoying. And American."

"Oh, yeah – wait, what?!"

"We could always sing a romantic song," France suggested with a wink.

"Nein," Germany replied shortly.

"Pourquoi? It was but a simple suggestion!" the blond protested.

"What if we sang _Wa! Wa! World Ondo_?"

Everyone turned to look at Japan.

America scratched his head. "That's not a bad idea – I mean, we all know the song already. Makes things easier, yeah?"

"Great. Now I have to sing in Japanese again," Germany grumbled. "No offense, Japan," he added hastily. _Vow,_ he thought. _I seem to be accidentally offending nations a lot today…_

"None taken, Mr. Germany."

"Um, America?" Canada squeaked out. "America? America? America? America!"

France poked the oblivious country. "America, I believe your brother would like to talk to you."

"Huh? Oh, Canadia!" America grinned at his twin. "What's up, dude?"

"Um, I don't have a part in the _Wa! Wa! World Ondo_ song…"

America beamed. "That's okay!"

France frowned. "No, it's not. He's your frère."

Canada nodded weakly. "Yeah. What France said."

America sighed a loud, annoyed sigh. "Fine! Dudes, we can't do that _World Ondo_ song. One, 'cuz Russia's not here, and two, because Canadia doesn't have a part."

"My name's Canada!"

The North American nation ignored his brother. "Any other suggestions?"

"What if we sang that song I wrote about Germany?" suggested Italy, smile growing even bigger.

"NEIN!" Germany objected hastily. "Um, sorry, Italy, it's just that I, uh, vant to keep it something personal between us…?"

"Oh, ok!"

England sighed. "So, what are we going to perform? We should probably figure it out soon…" His eyes lit up. "Of course, if we can't decide, we can always perform a Beatles song…"

"Non! Non, non, non!" France shouted. "Never shall I willingly perform a _British_ song!"

"Oh, and you have a better suggestion?!" England scoffed.

France went quiet.

"That's what I thought," England sniffed.

Japan raised his hand. "I am arright with performing a Beatres song."

Germany nodded his consent. "I as vell."

"Ve~!" exclaimed Italy, most likely in agreement.

(Canada also agreed, but no one really noticed.)

"Eh, I can do a Beatles song if everyone else wants to," America conceded. "Sorry, France, you're outnumbered! Here in America, we have democracy, so our six votes beat your one! HA!"

France was not happy, but he went with everyone else. "Oui, oui, _fine_."

Suddenly, America face-palmed. "I totally forgot! We need a name!"

"The Pasta Lovers!" Italy suggested immediately.

"What about America and Those Other Dudes?"

"Tuna…"

"The British Empire and Co."

"France is _Excellente_!"

"The Maple Leaves?"

"Ve need something ve can all agree on," Germany interrupted. "Something…cool. Modern."

"The Magical Unicorns?"

"England, dude, not cool."

"Shut up, America."

Italy's hand shot up into the air. "We could be the Pasta, Scones, Hamburgers, Syrup, Croissants, Beer, and Sake!"

"I think that is too rong," Japan told him gently.

"Oh, ok!"

Japan thought for a moment. "Why don't we call ourselves the International Cat Lovers?"

"What? Dude, why?" America looked dumbfounded.

"We arr own cats," Japan explained. "And we arr represent different nations. Besides, no one is going to care too much about our name." He blinked. "I think Greece wourd rike it very much, though."

Germany looked at the rest of his band/team/whoevers. "Anyone object? No? Alright, ve are ze International Cat Lovers."

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**Lovely band name, isn't it? :D**

**Also, I'm pretty happy with this story. I've already finished it, so I'll be updating quite frequently. YAY! ;D**

**Thank you to my one and only reviewer for the first chapter, GreyParadise. :)**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


	3. The Preparation - Starring The Nordic 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia! **

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PART THREE – THE PREPARATION: THE NORDIC 5

_Meanwhile, in Denmark's garage…_

Denmark's garage was rather large, and it was cold. Very cold. It also had random pieces of Scandinavian furniture everywhere, as well as Viking gear from "the good ol' days".

"Ok, so me and Finny are gonna sing," Denmark announced. "Right, Finny?"

Finland nodded quickly. "Yep! Eet'll be so much fun!"

"If you say so," Sweden said.

"And Norway and Iceland can totally play guitars or whatever, so Sweden can play the drums. Hey, doesn't he look like a drum sort of guy?"

"I guess," Finland admitted. "Eef you kind of squint a leettle."

"Great!" Appearing satisfied, Denmark leaned back in his Scandinavian wooden chair.

Norway raised his hand.

"Yes, Norway?" the taller Nordic said, calling on him.

"I was just wondering," he began. "What song we'll be singing."

Denmark's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa, I totally forgot about that!"

"I can write a song about puffins and licorice," Iceland offered. "Also, why's it so cold here?"

It was true. Denmark's garage was so cold that Mr. Puffin was frozen to a small puddle on the floor. All of the beautiful Scandinavian furniture was covered in a thin layer of frost, and each Nordic had to wear a large jacket to stay somewhat warm. Except for Denmark, who seemed to be perfectly fine. Strangely.

"I am theenking we could sing a Christmas carol? They're very festive and cheery!" Finland chirped.

"Of course," Norway said. "Because you're Santa Claus. I do not think the rest of us are as fond of the idea."

Sweden rubbed his chin. "Sorry, Finland, but the time is not Christmas. I am not sure we want to play something so out of season."

"We could sing _Let it Go_!" Norway threw in randomly.

The others just stared at him.

"Norge, American writers wrote that song. And America is on the other team." Iceland explained slowly.

Norway shrugged. "_Frozen_ takes place at my place. Because even Americans realize what a good country I am."

Denmark snorted. "Hey, _The Little Mermaid_ came out way before _Frozen_."

"If you guys argue about it that way, you're basically saying Germany is the best," Iceland threw in. "_Snow White and the Seven Dwarves_, anyone? First animated Disney film made."

The other two Nordics stopped glaring at each other for a moment. "Oh, yeah," Denmark realized. "But why do you care?"

Iceland gave a small smile. "I just wanted to prove both of you wrong."

Finland laughed at this. "Nice one, Iceland!"

"Thank you."

"But what are we going to sing? We still have not come to an agreement," Sweden said.

Denmark scratched his head. "Uh… The Free Beer song?"

"I am not theenking that is a real thing," Finland thought aloud.

"Why don't we play a song by a band from my place? They're called Of Monsters and Men, and they're really quite good," Iceland offered.

Sweden looked like he was trying to hold back a smile (gasp!). "If so, we may as well play ABBA."

Denmark groaned. "ABBA is so _old_! And their songs are so cheesy!"

Sweden stared down his fellow Nordic. "Are you so sure?"

"Uh, maybe not…" Denmark offered him a ha-ha-PLEASE-DON'T-KILL-ME smile.

"Hmph."

Finland decided to step in. "Continuing on… I like Of Monsters and Men. Do you guys like 'Leettle Talks'? I theenk it is very good."

"We could do that, if you want to," Sweden told him.

Iceland did a victory dance in his head, but said aloud, "Sure, sounds good."

Norway reluctantly agreed (he still wanted to sing _Let it Go_) and Denmark figured _Why not?_ and said yes as well.

"Great!" Denmark exclaimed with a large grin. "Free beers, now?"

"NO!" the other four Nordics shouted in unison.

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**Sorry! This is the shortest chapter. The rest of them are longer, pinky promise. :)**

**Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks!**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


	4. The Rehearsals - Starring Both Bands

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia. :D**

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PART FOUR – THE REHEARSALS: THE INTERNATIONAL CAT LOVERS & THE NORDIC 5

"International Cat Lovers, are you ready?!" America screamed into his microphone.

England plugged his ears in annoyance. "Goodness, America, can't you ever be quiet?"

"NOPE!" America looked quite proud of this fact.

"Let's just get on with this," Germany muttered. The only reason he was in America's garage today was because Italy practically begged him.

Actually, he literally begged him.

And dragged him over.

In his _Ferrari_.

As imagined, it was not pleasant at all.

"Dudes, c'mon, let's get this party STARTED!" America shouted, practically shrieking the last word.

England looked at Germany and shrugged. The two started playing their respective guitar and bass, though Germany somewhat hesitantly.

Japan began to beat his not-too-large taiko drum in a rhythmic beat, and Italy tapped his tambourine in accordance with the drum.

And so America began to sing –

England immediately stopped playing. "What the bloody hell was that?!" he got out, looking horrified.

"My AWESOME singing!" America replied, oblivious.

Germany winced. "America, I think you need to vork on your singing skills."

"Dude, we can just lip sing and computer edit my voice, no biggie!"

Canada spoke up. "That's against the rules in the competition," he said softly. Of course, nobody paid attention.

"Mr. America, I do not think the rures arrow you to do so…" Japan told the nation in a louder voice.

"Oh." America thought for a bit. "I guess I'll just have to get better at singing, then!"

"Or..." France started. "You could let moi sing…"

"Yeah, go Big Brother France!" cheered Italy.

"OH, HECK NO!" America protested.

France snuck up behind America. "You know you want to," he said in a sing-song voice.

America punched him in the face, sending him flying through the air like a blue-and-red flying frog. "NO WAY!"

Everyone stared at America. (Actually, that was a lie, England was too busy cackling like a maniacal British villain to pay any attention to the situation at hand.) Italy nearly broke out into tears.

"Um, America?" squeaked Canada. "Why…?"

America did not hear this. Instead, he gave a nervous laugh. "Heheheh, you know, maybe France can and I can share the part of lead singer…?"

A muffled but still exasperated 'thank you' came from the pile of blue and red clothing on the other side of the room.

"What about me?" Canada said, straining to speak at such a high volume level (aka normal).

"Yeah, dude, you can too – wait, where did you come from?!"

* * *

"Don't listen to a word I say," sang Denmark.

"Hey!" cheered the Nordics.

"The screams all sound the same," Finland sang.

"Guys, we're amazing!" Denmark said happily.

Finland looked confused. "That's not part of the song–"

"I know, I just wanted you guys to know that I think we're amazing. And way better than that lame 1Direction thing."

"Agreed," Sweden replied from over by his drums.

"We're going to win, definitely," Norway said confidently.

"I hope we do," Iceland agreed with his brother.

Finland grinned. "Yes! I know we can do eet!"

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**End of Part Four! :) I'll also post Part Five today, since I won't have any internet for the next fewdays...**

**Just Part Six, and then this story is over! :')**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


	5. The International Cat Lovers

**Disclaimer: Nope, no ownership of the awesomeness that is Hetalia. :)**

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PART FIVE – THE COMPETITION: THE INTERNATIONAL CAT LOVERS

Right before the Battle, three nations were sitting at the "judging table" to get a feel for what it was like sitting there.

Hungary arranged her files on the table. "This is so exciting!" she exclaimed. "I just can't wait!"

"Totally," Poland agreed, playing with the straw in his soda. "But when is it, like, going to start?"

"Shut up and be patient, people aren't even going to start showing up until an hour later," Switzerland grumbled, fingering his gun. Poland turned somewhat green.

The three nations were going to be judging the Battle of the Bands. Poland and Hungary volunteered to do so, while Switzerland was asked and sort of forced to by Liechtenstein.

The host was going to be Prussia… He claimed to have experience, so the other nations putting the show together just kind of let him.

Speaking of:

"Ze Awesome Prussia is here! SUCK IT, LOSERS!" He began to cackle, walking onto the large stage.

Hungary crossed her arms, looking upset. "I still cannot believe they let you do this," she sniffed.

Prussia smirked. "They couldn't take ze awesomeness," he told her mysteriously.

She merely scoffed.

"Prussia!" shouted China from backstage. "Get off the stage!"

"Fine," he grumbled.

Hungary raised an eyebrow. "Since when did 'Ze Awesome Prussia' listen to anyone?"

"Since zey threatened to take away his job if he slipped up…"

Later, once all of the nations mixed with their people had gathered in the large stadium (location not to be disclosed), Prussia came back on stage to start the show.

"HELLO!" he shouted. Everyone screamed back. "I AM ZE AWESOME GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT, YOUR AWESOME HOST! ARE YOU READY TO GET ZIS PARTY STARTED?!"

Everyone waved in the air frantically, cheering wildly – at least, all of the humans did. The nations did so only half-heartedly, considering it was Prussia.

"First, let's velcome our judges: Elizaveta Héderváry! Feliks Łukasiewicz! And Vash Zwingli!" Prussia shouted, pointing to the side of the stage, where the three walked out. Poland and Hungary waved happily, while Switzerland looked like he was sulking.

The three judges walked over to the "judging table".

"Anything you vant to say before ze show?" Prussia asked them.

"Good luck to the bands! Oh, and I hope the audience has lots and lots of fun!" Hungary said, still happy.

"I'm fabulous!"

"I don't want to be here." (The human audience laughed at this one, thinking Switzerland was trying to be funny. The nations knew he was dead serious.)

Prussia shrugged. "Vhatever. First up, ze International Cat Lovers!" He blinked. "Vait, _cats_?"

The lights blinked out on stage, and Prussia had to scramble to the side of the stage to avoid being run over by stage hands preparing the large stage.

* * *

The Baltics plus China were in charge of the sound and lights, with Russia to supervise them.

"Hurry up!" Russia sang cheerfully. "Or the show will be ruined and it will be all your fault!"

Lithuania ran around, seemingly flipping on random switches. China helped him by punching glowing buttons.

"I'm sorry!" Latvia wailed. "I'm not good with electronics!"

Russia patted him on the back. "It's ok, Latvia! Just remember, if you don't do this correctly, you get to be stretched! Ssstttrrreeetttccchhheeeddd!"

Latvia very nearly burst into tears.

* * *

When the orange lights blinked on, the International Cat Lovers were on stage, all of them dressed in black suits, white shirts, and orange ties.

"Salut!" France cried, waving at his female admirers. "Mon nom est Francis Bonnefoy, and voici my band mates–"

"Yes, I'm Arthur Kirkland," England interrupted.

"And I am Alfred F. Jones!" America called out.

"Matthew Williams," Canada said quietly, but a section of girls started screaming anyway.

"Kiku Honda!" Japan said, waving.

"Feliciano Vargas!" As Italy said this, he waved around his tambourine thing.

"And I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, unfortunately the younger brother of the host," Germany muttered darkly, glaring at Prussia for being…Prussia.

"LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!" Ze Awesome Prussia prompted them "gently".

England and Germany started to play their respective guitars. Japan beat his drum slowly. The orange lights softened, and a single spotlight trained on France.

And so France began to sing…

"Michelle, my belle. These are words that go together well, my Michelle," he sang, his beautiful voice causing women to weep. "Michelle, my belle. Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble, très bien ensemble."

Italy began to play his tambourine, smiling all the while.

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" sang France, America, and Canada.

"Zat's all I want to say," France sang by himself. "Until I find a way I will say ze only words I know zat you'll understand."

Giving a small bow, he hurried back to stand next to America and Canada, who were about ten feet behind the microphone. After nudge from America, Canada took position with the microphone, and prepared himself.

"Michelle, my belle," sang Canada in his soft voice.

_Speak up!_ mouthed America. Then he looked puzzled. _Actually, sing up!_

"Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble, très bien ensemble," Canada tried a little louder. America gave him thumbs up.

"I need to, I need to, I need to," the three singers sang.

"I need to make you see," Canada continued by himself. "Oh, what you mean to me. And until I do I'm hoping you will know what I mean."

"I love you," the singers sang in unison.

And England had his guitar solo! (Kind of. Germany was still playing, but at least the Frog wasn't singing. Plus, it was only for five seconds.)

"I want you, I want you, I want you," France, America, and Canada started again.

"I'll get to you somehow," sang America on his own, causing his other band members to wince. "Until I do I'm holding you so you'll understand." He winked at the audience, causing girls to sigh dreamily.

"Michelle, my belle," he sang. "Sond day motts quee vond tray ben onsom, tray ben onsom."

France and Canada nearly plugged their ears – America's French was terrible. "The Beatles were better than this," France whispered to Canada.

"Yeah, way better," he whispered back in agreement.

"I will say the only words I know that you'll understand, my Michelle," the singers sang together.

And England had another guitar solo! But this time longer, and it ended the song.

Hungary clapped so quickly, her hands were a blur. "Beautiful!" she cried.

"It was almost fabulous," Poland admitted.

Switzerland merely narrowed his eyes. "Not worth shooting over," he decided.

The audience cheered and threw roses, which France graciously accepted. Japan looked only a bit tired after hitting the drum so many times, and Italy was still shaking his tambourine, delighted. Germany gave the audience a tired smile. England was grinning and waving at the audience, looking happy to be there. Canada merely stood by his excited brother and gave a small wave.

"BRAVO!" shouted Prussia, walking back onstage. "Now, vhat do ze judges have to say?"

"Lovely! 9 out of 10!" Hungary told them, smiling. "The only thing was Alfred's singing… Other than that, lovely performance! The tambourine was especially nice," she added, winking at Italy who _tried to_ wink back.

"Almost fabulous! My ears were bleeding because of America!" Poland complained. "So, like, I think 8 out of 10. Yeah. Everything else was kind of fabulous."

"7 out of 10." Switzerland said shortly.

"Reason vhy…?" Prussia prompted.

"No."

Prussia was slightly taken aback. "Oh. Right, then. GIVE IT UP FOR THE INTERNATIONAL CAT LOVERS!"

* * *

**Switzerland would make a great judge. Forever neutral, and all that. :)**

**Also, I lied. There's actually two more parts - Part Six and the Epilogue. :D**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


	6. The Nordic 5 and - wait, what?

**I'm back! :)**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia, I do not own.**

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PART SIX – THE COMPETITION: THE NORDIC 5 & wait, what?!

As the clapping died down, Prussia held up an awesome hand for silence.

"Now, ve have ze Nordic 5 to perform! YOU CAN COME ON STAGE NOW!" he yelled to the five nations backstage.

Denmark, followed by Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden made their way onstage.

Tens of hundreds of girls began to scream, gaining smiles and waves from the five guys.

"Alright, alright, settle down now," ordered Prussia, somewhat jealous that they had more fans than him. "They're going to perform, vhatever!" He stalked off stage.

The lights faded on to light blue when each guy was standing in the correct position.

Iceland and Norway, both wearing dark blue jackets, began to play cheery uplifting tunes on their guitars. At regular intervals, the Nordics cheered, "Hey!" together.

Finland, wearing a light blue shirt and jeans, started off singing. "I don't like walking around thees cold and empty house," Finland sang, eliciting even more fangirl screams.

"So hold my hand I'll walk with you, my dear," added Denmark in a surprisingly good singing voice and bright blue blazer.

Finland couldn't help it, he grinned. "The stairs creak as I sleep, eet's keeping me awake."

"It's the house telling you to close your eyes."

"Some days I can't even dress myself."

"It's killing me to see you this way," sang Denmark.

Together: "'Cause though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore."

Grinning, the two nations gave a slight bow as Iceland and Norway continued to play their guitars. Sweden, wearing navy blue, looked quite serious, but his friends all knew he was nervous.

Even so, the rest of the song went without any mistakes at all, and the audience was shouting for an encore by the end.

Prussia came back onstage. "Vonderful – almost as awesome as the awesome me!"

"Thank you, Meester Pru – uh, Gilbert!" chirped Finland with a beam.

"Let's see vhat ze judges think… Elizaveta?"

Hungary gave them a wide smile. "That was very, very good! 10 out of 10!"

"It was quite fabulous," Poland admitted. "10 out of 10!"

"9 out of 10," Switzerland said simply. The audience booed. Switzerland's fingers itched for the trigger of his gun, but he restrained himself. He didn't want to have to pay any fines.

"Vell, I think it's obvious who's the winner!" Prussia announced. "The Nordic 5–"

Suddenly, all of the lights in the stadium went dark.

"Vhat ze–?"

A single light came back on – the spotlight. It was trained on a musician sitting at an ornate piano.

"How ze–" [CENSORED] "–did vimpy Austria and his stupid piano get onstage? I thought those five were there!"

The Nordic 5 were somehow off stage to the side, despite being right onstage a minute ago. The five exchanged glances, wondering what on Earth was going on.

Up in the control room, Turkey looked satisfied. He had successfully knocked all five nations in the Light and Sound Control Room out with unidentifiable liquid. Quickly, he gave the other two the signal. _They better pay me soon,_ he thought gruffly.

Seemingly from nowhere, a hauntingly beautiful Spanish guitar began to play. The fangirls held their breath, knowing and hoping they were correct in assuming who the player was.

It was Spain.

He walked onto the stage, still playing his guitar, and a serious and wise looking contemplative look was on his face.

Austria began to play his piano which, although the song was Austrian in origin, somehow fit quite well with Spain's guitar-playing.

Just then, the audience heard a deep, rich, opera voice.

_Who could it be? _they wondered. _It sounds Itali – oh, wow…_

Romano walked out from backstage from the opposite side of the stage.

His opera voice was beautiful. (Much better than Veneziano's.)

Spain and Romano met in the middle in front of Austria playing his piano, two of the spotlights trained on them. All three of the nations were wearing white tops and dark bottoms, though in their own styles. The outfits seemed to almost sparkle under the light.

Austria played the piano while Spain played his guitar and Romano continued to sing his Italian opera, and together, the three created a beautiful new piece of music.

The audience held their breath, and continued to hold it all though out the rest of the stunning performance.

When Romano finally let go of his last held note, the audience was still in shock.

Slowly, one man stood up and began to clap. As if in a trance, the rest of the audience stood up one by one and clapped, until quite suddenly, the entire audience – including the nations – were all standing and cheering.

All of the lights faded back on, and the three took a bow. Everyone cheered even louder at this, which seemed to be an impossible feat.

Spain waved at the audience, smiling and accepting the flowers they threw to him. Austria did pretty much the same thing, though he was wearing a self-satisfied smirk. Romano looked very proud of himself, probably because he felt that he was better than Veneziano for once. (Which, in itself, is quite sad.)

Prussia jogged up to the trio. "What do you call yourselves?" he yelled to them over the audience's cheers.

Spain grinned. "We're the Mostly Classic Trio!"

"GIVE IT UP FOR THE MOSTLY CLASSIC TRIO!" Prussia screamed to the audience, causing them to jump around and cheer even louder.

When the audience finally calmed down, Prussia turned to the panel of judges. "So, vhat did you zink?" he asked Hungary.

"11 out of 10!" she said loudly, beaming at her ex-husband, who smiled back.

Prussia turned to Poland. "Your appraisal?"

"10 out of 10! Absolutely fabulous!" Poland said with a grin.

"Vash?"

Switzerland hesitated. He was going to go with 9 out of 10, but Liechtenstein seemed very happy with the performance… She'd never forgive him if he gave them anything less than a 10.

"10 out of 10," he grumbled.

The crowd went wild. "MOSTLY CLASSIC TRIO!" they cheered, until eventually it only became: "TRI-O! TRI-O! TRI-O!"

America ran onstage, a few crew members stumbling after him, showing that they had attempted to restrain him. "Wait, dudes, that's not fair!"

"In vhat vay?" questioned Austria. "I see no cheating."

"You guys didn't sign up for the show!" America showed him the registration form. "See?"

"Who cares?" Prussia looked to the audience. "They loved it!" He turned to the audience. "So, our winners are–"

Denmark tackled Prussia from behind. "They didn't sign up for the show, so technically, they shouldn't win!"

Prussia winced, but kicked the blond off and rolled away. "Security!" he shouted.

Several security guards poured onstage and hauled away the two nations kicking and screaming.

"Vell, zat vas very unawesome!" Prussia said with a grin.

The audience gave a small cheer of support.

"So, our vinners for tonight are…"

The audience held their breath.

"…THE MOSTLY CLASSICAL TRIO!"

A roar of applause erupted.

* * *

**PLOT TWIST! :D**

**Thanks for all of the reviews! :)**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


	7. The Epilogue - Featuring the Bands

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia. :)**

* * *

EPILOGUE – THE AFTERMATH: EVERYONE!

Austria, Romano, and Spain accepted their trophy gracefully and collected the cash reward.

"Gracias!" Spain shouted to the audience for a smattering of applause.

The three made their way off stage.

Almost immediately, Denmark and America fought their way back on stage…and were interrupted once again by security guards. This time, however, they fought even harder, as their goal was tackling Prussia. (They had made a bet to see who could tackle him first. A ridiculously large bet.)

Eventually, Norway and Germany dragged their respective band mates off to the side. Norway dragged Denmark by, as you can guess, his tie. Germany just took America's arm.

* * *

"Whew!" said America. "We really lost, didn't we? Wonder how…"

England raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you hear Poland? 'Like, my ears were bleeding because of America,'" he mimicked Poland.

France clapped. "That was a very good mimic."

"Thank you, Frog."

America fiddled with his glasses. "I wasn't _that_ bad."

"Your French was pretty bad," Canada admitted apologetically. "Sorry, America."

"What's that? Dude, I can't hear you, you've gotta speak up," America told his brother cheerfully.

England restrained himself from facepalming, and instead found something else to focus on. "Oi, what's with the lights?"

The spotlights were spinning around and the beams bounced about the audience.

"OOOOHHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHHHH!" the audience gasped, thinking this was another part of the show.

* * *

"Aiya!" exclaimed China. "Why we have so many technical problems?!" He ran around, frantically trying to switch off the spotlights.

Estonia was also panicking, trying to figure out which buttons to press. "Do I hit ctrl + g + f or ctrl + t + g?! Lithuania, help me!"

But his fellow nation was just as confused. "I don't know what's going on!"

Meanwhile, Russia was making Latvia even shorter by pressing down on his head. "Why are you so short, Mr. Latvia?"

"For some reason, I am having a strange sense of déjà vu," Latvia commented. "And I am too short because you are always pressing down on my head."

"Stretch! Stretch! Stretch!" Russia cried as he "stretched" Latvia.

"OW… Like I – ow – said, déjà vu! OW!"

"Found it!" Estonia cheered. He punched a button, shutting down all of the lights.

China groaned.

"Sorry."

* * *

The Nordic 5 and International Cat Lovers all ended up going out for dinner together. Germany, Denmark, and America were talking about beer, while England talked to Norway about magic. Finland and Italy were happily talking about Christmas while Sweden listened on and occasionally grunted. France and Canada talked about French and how horrible America's singing was, and Iceland and Japan talked about different types of fish.

"Vell, vell, if it isn't ze losers," gloated Austria. "Jealous, little brother?"

Germany sighed. "Nein. Vhy vould I be? I do not care about zis stupid 'battle'."

"Winning is important! But you wouldn't get that, being a potato freak," Romano jeered.

Italy perked up. "Fratello! Your singing was very good!"

"Grazi, but I already know," Romano said with a snobby sniff.

"Ah, Romano, you're so modest!" joked Spain. He was still carrying his Spanish guitar, and was absent-mindedly playing a strum or two here and there.

"Curse you, Spain!"

There was a short but awkward silence.

"What are you doing here?" America asked finally. "To gloat?"

"Or are you just desperate to be around good people like us?" France asked slyly.

"Are you going to buy us free beers?" asked Denmark hopefully.

"Ve're not here to gloat, ve're better zan you anyvay, and nein, no free beers," Austria answered in an annoyed tone. "Ve just vanted to shake hands and all zat to display good sportsmanship."

The Nordic 5 and International Cat Lovers went quiet at that. There was an awkward and heavy silence following, neither band knowing what to say or do.

Finally, Sweden stood up and stuck out his hand. "Good game, yeah?"

Spain shook it. "Si, good game."

Italy bounced up and shook his big brother's hand. "Good game, Romano!"

"Yeah, yeah, Veneziano, whatever." Romano jerked his hand back.

"Hey, Austria, dude, good game!"

"Good game, Spain! Tell Prussia I say hello, oui?"

"Good game! Buy me a free beer?"

"Good game, Austria. Watch out for America and France."

"Germany, good game, ve~!"

"Italy, I'm on your team."

"Japan, it was a good game, si?"

After every nation had stood and shaken hands, the three groups were unsure of what to do. "Vhy don't you eat dinner vith us?" invited Germany. "Ve haven't ordered yet, and I am guessing ze three of you have not eaten yet."

Romano, Spain, and Austria exchanged looks. "Sure, why not?" Spain answered for the three of them.

And thus, a wonderful new friendship blossomed.

(Not that it was perfect, but it worked. Mostly.)

FIN

* * *

**All done! I'm kind of sad... I really loved writing this. :)**

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! They all made my day! :D**

**- ImaginaryParchment**


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